piles of crackling ice cubes soaking in black iced coffee on wooden tables

shelves, endless shelves, burdened by the weight of someone else’s imperfect writing

testimonials in hushed courtrooms, tight collars, freshly shined leather loafers

trembling fingers clench the driving wheel, tires spin and spit rainwater

old leather wallets and worn leather belts, pocket knives and sticks stripped bare

white, wet flower petals arriving at dawn, their stems green and straight and strong

flashing lights, city streets, whirring cars, jaywalkers at golden hour without curfews

soil, black and white, it buries us both, tombstones and grass and squirrels with big paws

grinding gears, tick-tocking clocks, broken dinner tables and chipped china

glossy lakes photographed in black and white, abandoned cabins, deers shed their antlers

applause.